It is always exciting when spring nears. At first, there is a sign here, or there, that spring is emerging. Occasionally more definite signals will flash, such as geese on the golf course or icebergs floating downstream in the river. Guys on the XC team will run shirtless during their afternoon workouts. Well, they do that through all of winter, too, but as spring approaches they look a lot less cold. If you peer carefully enough, you might spot a fly buzzing in the sunlight, if there is sunlight. In an earlier time, you would have spotted students lounging in Prexy's Pasture on the nicer days, but now everyone is far too preoccupied with their phones for such frivolity.
Gradually the signals become more numerous and intensify, only to be quashed when the next winter storm rolls through. But inevitably, spring will at last break through:
Funny enough, it didn't feel spring-like at all. It was overcast nearly all day long, with rain spitting and snowflakes in the air, and chilly wind out of the NW in the valley. Looking around in the valley, snow squalls were visible almost all day long. But up top, even without the sun and even though temps weren't mild, the trails had the aspect of being ready to begin melting away at almost any moment, even as grapple was blanketing every surface. Skiing was slow, and footing for running was difficult.
Fittingly, robins were singing from every direction in the forest.